Tuesday, February 16, 2010

Customer Service

I am not really sure why I am writing this post. Maybe as written proof I am going both blind and crazy? Maybe to come to terms with losing some key elements of my existence? A cry for help?

I don't know.

What I do know is this: I was at a store the day before Valentine's day. It was the type of store where one would shop for family-friendly Valentine gifts like balloons, candy and heart-felt cheese. I had ordered a specialized gift and knew I'd need help in picking it up. When I walked into the store I saw two young teenage girls working the cash registers and a boy of similar age in the back of the store behind an order counter.

And the place was packed with patrons all hopped up on helium-filled, heart-shaped latex.

I thought about perhaps asking the boy in the back for assistance, but from my point of view he looked sort of sullen and depressed. I couldn't exactly see his face, but I decided against approaching him when I noticed he was just sitting there squinting at me from behind the counter. Instead, I started to wait in line knowing it would probably prove fruitless because the girls were too busy punching numbers and running credit cards to go check on my waiting order in the recesses of the store.

But after standing in line for a trickle of minutes with a full bladder and two waiting boys in the car, I became impatient. So impatient I thought, Alright, I am going to go ask cheerless crab for help. Which is when an angelic-looking woman in a particularly delightful periwinkle sweater asked me if I needed anything.